A Lost Child
by ninja unicorn101
Summary: Ok, so, Mr. Crepsley has a daughter. Her name is Sophie, and she finds a Cirque flyer, goes to the Cirque Du Freak, and meets Mr. Crepsley! Better than it sounds! R&R PLEASE! Pretty please with rainbow sprinkles on top? I OWN NOTHING!


I caught a glimpse of bright green on my way home from school. My name is Sophie; I'm 15, and a freshman at Fishers High School. Anyways, I saw something bright green down in an alley. Now I know…you're probably thinking, don't go down into an alley!!!! How stupid is this girl?!?! But, hey – I'm a curious person! So anyways, I go down to check it out. It was a flyer, an advertising pamphlet for some sort of traveling circus. There was a picture of a wolf's head at the top. The wolf had it's terrifyingly sharp teeth showing. At the bottom, there were pictures of a spider and a snake, and they looked vicious, as well. Just beneath the wolf, it read:

**CIRQUE DU FREAK**

FOR ONE WEEK ONLY – SEE CIRQUE DU FREAK!!!!

SEE:

SIVE AND SEERSA – THE TWISTING TWINS!!

THE SNAKE-BOY! THE WOLF-MAN! GERTHA TEETH!

LARTEN CREPSLEY AND HIS PREFORMING SPIDER –

MADAME OCTA!

ALEXANDER RIBS! THE BEARDED LADY!

HANS HANDS!

RHAMUS TWOBELLIES – WORLD'S FATTEST MAN!

**  
**Under all of that, it had an address of where you could buy tickets, and find out where and when there were shows going on.

**NOT FOR THE FAINTHEARTED!**

**SOME RESTRICTIONS APPLY!**

Cirque Du Freak…well this sounded cool!!!! I knew that in French, Cirque Du Freak translates to Circus of Freaks…a freak show…? WICKED!!!!!!!!! I know that freak shows are usually very cruel and mean and stuff, but you never know…this one might be different!

Anyways, I stuffed the flyer in my pocket, and headed home, eager to find more out about freak shows!

Later, I asked Maria about freak shows. She told me that they were inhuman, cruel, and illegal. She also asked why I was suddenly so interested in freak shows. I lied easily, by saying that I heard some guys talking about freak shows at school.

You see, Maria is my foster mother. Ever since I was eight, I've been bounced around from one foster home to the next, because when I was eight, my mother got killed in a car crash, from getting hit by a drunk driver. This is why I swore to never, ever do drugs, and that includes drinking beer and wine. I never want to be the cause of someone else's death, like that man did seven years ago.

I can never stay in one foster home for very long, because I'm a very difficult child…I'm always wandering off, or getting into fights at school, and I tend to speak my mind a lot…and by that, I mean that talking back is basically my hobby!

You're wondering why I don't live with my father? Well, he walked out on my mother and me when I was young, maybe three or four. I barely remember him…

Anyways, off of depressing topics!

I really like Maria, and she's sooooooo nice, but I just haveto see what this is all about!  
So after school the next day, I run (and I literally mean RUN) to buy tickets, so Maria doesn't get too suspicious of why I'm coming home so late.

I went to the address that the flyer said, but didn't see much. I was about to go home, when I turned around, only to see a guy there, in a dark blue robe, holding a few tickets in his hands. I couldn't see his/her face, but I could tell that they were very muscular.

I handed "it" the paper, and asked if I could have one ticket, and paid the dude. He took the money and the flyer, and then handed me one ticket, just as I had asked. After he walked away, I stared at the ticket for a few seconds, and then remembered that I had no time to spare!

I ran towards home, falling once, scraping my knee on the concrete, drawing a LOT of blood, cussing out the concrete, and continuing my run home.

"_I'll just get a band-aid when I get home"_, I thought.

The tickets were for Saturday night, so I could just say that I was spending the night at a friend's house, and then end up coming home because I didn't feel too well. I'm a pretty good liar, because when you're always bounced around from house to house, sometimes sneaking out, or running away during the night…anyways, being a kid like me, you learn to lie.

I stuffed the ticket in my pocket and walked in the door.

Maria took one look at my knee, and rushed me to the kitchen, where we kept our first-aid kit. She got it cleaned up, wrapped in gauze, and asked me probably a thousand times, "Are you sure you're ok, Sophie?"

Of course I kept answering, "Yes…for the thousandths time, I'm fine!" Then we would laugh for a few seconds, and the cycle would start over…pretty boring, huh?


End file.
